Twelve Years: Post-Concert
by PrinceMittens
Summary: A wife is evicted from the theatre in which her husband was performing. And now he's saying that he's going to punish her.. what?
Shippity shippity ship. Also, this could qualify as a sequel to my other fic of this very same fandom (Twelve Years). This one's just less open to interpretation. winkwinknudgenudge

* * *

"Stupid foreign conventions." A woman griped unhappily as she walked down the streets alongside her husband. The Sun had set at least an hour ago, and the sky looked ready to spill snow onto the cold grounds.

"They're there for a reason." The husband explained patiently, his warm breath fogging the relatively cooler air. "As punishment, I think I'll have y-"

"What?! Punishment!? _You're_ suggesting giving _me_ punishments?! Not you too!"

"You _did_ get us kicked out of the theatre."

"No I didn't. I got _me_ kicked out. You could've stayed to meet and talk to all your fans if you'd wanted. I could've waited in the car." The woman smiled, happy that her husband had chosen to walk out with her.. "Well, as long as the punishment is reasonable. What is it?" The woman asked excitedly. "Tell me!"

"Um. Well.." There was an awkward pause as the man looked away. "Never mind."

"What?! Kousei… Now you _have_ to tell me. Come on, why would you say that you were going to give me a punishment and then not tell me what it is?"

"Mmm." The man fished into his pockets and held his hands out at arms length. Dangling between his fingers were a set of keys. "You're driving."

The woman deflated. "That's it? That's _it_?! I thought it would be something more…"

"That's why I didn't want to tell you. You were getting so excited about it and everything."

"Guhhh. Lame." The woman took the keys. The couple walked quietly towards their rented car. They settled into their seats quietly, the woman inserting the keys and turning on the engine as the man pulled down his seatbelt.

"How was she?" The woman asked after several minutes of silent driving.

"The same." The man replied, staring ahead as he answered.

The car stopped at an intersection. They were getting close. "I'm sorry." The man said suddenly.

"Don't be. I love you, Kousei."

The man, Kousei, felt his heart warm at the words. His wife had always been with him, through thick and thin. That she even accepted him when he had half his heart somewhere else made it impossible for him not to love her with what he had left. Kousei smiled as they parked in the lot near the hotel complex. "I love you too."

They drove on in comfortable silence, reaching their location just as the first of the snow began to fall. Setting his scarf snugly around his neck and chin, Kousei readied himself to brave the cold again, wishing he'd brought another jacket.

As they exited the car, Kousei looked over at his wife who chuckled as if recalling something funny.  
"What? Did I say something funny?"

"Mhm." The woman laughed. "Your response when I told you that I loved you... "

"It's true…"

"I know." The woman said. "It's just.. I suddenly remembered the times when you used to blush whenever I said that. You were so cute back then." Shutting the car door, the woman tossed the keys she had in her hands over the hood of the car. Kousei, not having expected the movement, found his deft, piano-playing fingers fumbling in the cold air before dropping the keys to the ground.

"And I'm not cute now?" Kousei said half-jokingly as he bent down to pick up the keys. Their conversation stopped as they hurried toward the warmth of the hotel lobby.

"Well…" His wife pontificated as they entered through the automatic doors. "You're a different kind of cute now than you were then."

"Ah.. I see… Arima Kousei." He announced to one of the front desk operators of the hotel. The woman behind the desk nodded, did a few elementary typing on her computer, and then pointed at his wife and asked a question in German.

The wife pointed at herself. "Arima Tsubaki. Hallo."

"Hallo." The woman behind the desk smiled, handed them a set of keys and waved them away. "256."

Kousei nodded, giving the words of thanks that he'd learned from his brief foray in the language dictionary he carried with him.

As they left the front desk toward their new rooms, the Japanese couple began speaking once more.

"What did she say?"

" _256_ …" Kousei said aloud. "I think that's the number 256."

"Second floor?"

"I would assume so. Ah, here are some numbers. 219 to 271. This way!"  
It didn't take long for the couple to find their room. As one, the two of them collapsed tiredly onto the single, queen-sized bedding. "Ah. I just love these hotel beds." The wife, Tsubaki, declared with a sigh of satisfaction. She quickly pulled one of the pillows into her hands and stuffed it beneath her brown, shoulder-length hair. "It's so warm."

"Mmm." Kousei agreed as he suddenly felt too tired to even consider getting up.

"Oy! You're not going to sleep until you brush your teeth!" Tsubaki bounced up on the bed and pulled at her husband. "Get upp you lazy!"

Kousei groaned and shuffled toward where he thought the bathroom would be. He hoped the Hotel provided toothbrush because he really didn't feel like going through the luggage that had been sent to this room for them to find it.

"Hurry up. The sooner you finish, the sooner we can go to sleep."

Kousei felt a gentle push on his back, and he yawned. "Ok, Tsubaki. Let's just. Let me. Oh. There's no toothbrush."

"Hold on." His wife called, her voice suddenly distant. "Let me get it for you."

A toothbrush with toothpaste already set onto its bristles was suddenly placed in his hands. Kousei stared at himself in the mirror. He looked a lot more wakeful than he felt. To his side, he could hear the sounds of someone else brushing her teeth. "Start brushing." Tsubaki commanded.

Like a robot on autopilot, Kousei ran the bristly brush across his teeth, and before long, his mouth was full of minty suds. Quietly, he rinsed his mouth, picked up the toothpaste to reapply another layer, and went back to brushing the spots that he'd missed. Why was he feeling so sleepy?

"Hey. Kousei."

"Hmm?" He muttered.

"I have to fly back to Japan tomorrow afternoon." The voice said soothingly.

"Mhm."

"You'll have to stay and tour for another week yeah?"

"Yup." Kousei managed to say through a mouthful of toothpaste. He couldn't imagine using any other brand.

"I haven't seen you in almost a month..."

Kousei rinsed his mouth and set down the toothbrush. "Mhm." He shambled towards the bed, passing his wife as he moved through the bathroom doorway. He took off his suit, his tie, his dress shirt and dress pants in record speed before collapsing face first into the mattress. The bed. Ah. Tsubaki was right. These beds were the best.

"Stupid Kousei!" A loud voice suddenly shouted.

His drowsiness was driven away like a vulture from its carcass. Suddenly, he was very awake. His first reaction was fear. What was happening? Why was there shouting? Kousei rolled onto his back, his eyes open and alert. His wife stood at the bathroom doorway, wearing a T-shirt. Tsubaki looked angry. Very angry.

"What's wrong?" He asked worriedly, sitting up. "Hey." His worry turned to nervousness as his wife stomped towards him. "What-" He grimaced as Tsubaki shoved him back down onto the bed, pinning him into the mattress. She'd always been the stronger one. "Hey." Kousei tried again. "Whatever is going on we can talk this out, there's no need for viol-"

His words were cut short by the lips stemming against his own. Oh.. oh! That's why she was so-

Kousei's mind short-circuited as another more pleasant sensation invaded his now fully-awake mind.

* * *

It was well past time to fall asleep. Kousei stared up into the darkness of the early morning and yawned. "You could've just said so."

"Mmm." His wife muttered sleepily. Their situations were now reversed.

"I'll see you in a week."

This time, there was no response. Kousei waited. Sure enough, it wasn't long before his wife's breathing slowed and evened. "Tsubaki." He ventured and received no reply. She was dead to the world. "Good night." He said, and promptly went to sleep.

* * *

Author's Note: I have no regrets! Nope! Nope nope nope!


End file.
